


Nine Eleven

by quicksilverstucky (quicksilvermalec)



Series: Stucky Oneshots [11]
Category: Captain America
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know how to tag this, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, author is terrible, do I look like a writer to you?, enjoy, of course they're ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 17:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverstucky
Summary: Bucky spoke for the first time in almost an hour. His voice was very quiet and shaking. He sounded not unlike the way one might sound if one had a gun held to one’s head.“Steve’s in there,” he whispered.Nat looked at him. “I know,” she replied quietly.





	Nine Eleven

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really buy into all of that patriotic die-for-your-country bullshit, and I don't really think 9/11 is as significant as people make it out to be, plus I wasn't even alive when it happened, but every year on this day I write something about 9/11. This is what I wrote one year ago today.
> 
> Yes, it's Stucky.
> 
> Fight me.
> 
> Enjoy.

Two gingers, their respective brunet boyfriends, and one blond were sitting at a table in Avengers Tower.

Natasha Romanoff was highly exasperated. She was trying to get through to Steven Rogers about _his_ prospective brunet boyfriend.

Note the word prospective.

He had been in love with Bucky his whole life. He’d fought so hard when he found out that he was alive and mind-controlled by HYDRA. He had thought he’d died when he fell out of the train, but HYDRA had saved him.

Nat rolled her eyes and leaned forward. Bruce brushed a stray lock of red hair out of her face and she gave him a soft but fleeting look.

Steve sighed. “There’s no way that he would want… me. I’m just me. I’m boring. And even if I wanted to talk to him about it, _why_ would you make me do this _today_?”

Natasha barked out a laugh. “Okay, this might sound weird, but… I think you need to use your PTSD.”

Steve blinked. “What.”

“Rogers, I was there with him… when the Towers fell. We watched the live footage on TV. I’ve seen him terrified, when you’d go on missions without him. He’d just sit on the couch and watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and wait for you to come back, alive and whole. But this was different. This was a whole new level of fear. He… he couldn’t function. I think he was afraid that you would die without him ever saying the things he wanted to say. I think that’s when he really realized… what he’d always known. All I’m saying is, the fear he felt on that day is easily the most profound and greatest terror he’s ever felt. He _needs_ you, Steve. He clings to you like a lifeline! He loves you so much. You have to talk to him about it.”

Steve groaned and leaned back in his chair, then stood up.

“Fine. But when –_ when_ – I get completely rejected and my life ruined, I’m coming for you.”

/\/\/\

“Hey, Buck,” called a cheerful… ish voice.

“Hey Stevie,” Bucky replied quietly without looking at him.

Steve threw himself into a chair next to Bucky and pulled the fantasy novel out of his hands, bookmarking the page and closing the book.

“Hey!” Bucky argued, but the blond held the book out of his reach.

The brunet mock-sighed. “What. Do you want. You little _punk_!”

Steve smiled at the nickname, but the smile faded quickly. “We need to talk about… about nine eleven.”

“Yeah, okay. It’s nine eleven. I get it. You have PTSD from that day. I’m sorry. What does it have to do with me?”

He was getting defensive. He couldn’t bring himself down.

Steve’s face and voice softened. “Natasha told me what happened. That day, when you were here?”

“How much did she tell you?”

“She told me that you watched the footage on TV. She told me you were together. She told me you were scared.”

A bitter laugh escaped the brunet’s lips. “That’s one way to put it.”

_Bucky sat on the couch, lazily flipping through channels as he ate chips and salsa._

_Nat came in from the kitchen with her own chips and bean dip and sat down next to him._

_He changed the channel again and the next channel was showing the news. He was about to flip again when he heard the words, “the World Trade Center has been hit”._

_He dropped the remote. Nat grabbed it and turned it up. Bucky was silent._

_“In a horrifying and unexpected turn of events, extremists have hijacked two planes, piloting them into the Twin Towers. We don’t know yet how many people have been hurt or how extensive the damage is. This is all the footage we can get from the scene.”_

_The image on the screen was just a huge column of smoke extending into the sky. Nothing from the World Trade Center was visible._

_They followed the news story as long as possible, watching as the Towers collapsed and as they gave and repeatedly updated the counts of people injured and dead._

_The fourth time they updated that number, Bucky spoke for the first time in almost an hour. His voice was very quiet and shaking. He sounded not unlike the way one might sound if one had a gun held to one’s head._

_“Steve’s in there,” he whispered._

_Nat looked at him. “I know,” she replied quietly._

_“What if he’s one of those people?” Bucky asked. He hadn’t torn his eyes away from the television._

_“He won’t be. He can’t be.” But her voice was quiet too, in that way that people’s voices sometimes are when they’re afraid, as if by being loud they will somehow seal their fate – or in this case, the fate of someone else._

_Neither she nor Bucky were sure who it was she was trying to convince._

Steve stared at him.

“That- really?” he asked.

Bucky sighed. “I was so, so terrified, Stevie. I thought you weren’t going to come home. I thought I was going to have to follow you into the ground.”

Steve dropped down next to him. “Buck I… please don’t follow me to whatever comes next. I can’t imagine dying knowing you’re going to kill yourself once I’m gone. And… I love you too much to let you do that to yourself.”

Bucky nodded, looking forlorn. “Okay, Stevie. I love you, too, and I can’t live without you.”

“I need you,” Steve whispered. “And not just because you keep me sane. You are everything to me. I am… I’m in love with you, Buck.”

It was silent for a moment.

Then, ever so quietly, Bucky replied, “I love you too, punk.”

And Steve kissed him gently, placing one hand at the back of his head and holding him in place. When they separated, even just for a moment, Steve whispered, “my jerk.”

And at least they were okay, because they had each other. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize for the way I ended this originally. That final sentence and the previous end note were extremely offensive and I have now changed them. 
> 
> Yes, this event was a disaster. It was a horrible thing and unfortunately, I was somewhat regurgitating my friend's opinions when I posted this - my friend who really doesn't think this matters at all. 
> 
> I apologize to anyone who read this and was offended - that was not my intention and I'm very sorry. 
> 
> I'd also like to say that my beginning note is not intended to make anyone feel defensive. The reason I don't believe in "all of that patriotic dying-for-your-country bullshit" is because this country has been pretty consistently terrible to me and to people like me for a long time. Maybe that's not an excuse, but those are my honest feelings. 
> 
> Again, I'm so sorry about the way this looked before, but I hope now it's better. 
> 
> Love,  
-Sil


End file.
